


Eurythmia: Interlude

by Baron_Barkonnen



Series: Eurythmia [2]
Category: Euphoria (TV 2019), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: De-powered Peter Parker, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Lexi Howard is A Good Bro, Michelle Jones Is a Good Bro, Mystic Acolyte Michelle Jones, Ned Leeds is a Good Bro, Second Part of a Series, Sexual Teenage Relationship (Non-graphic (so far)), dubious medical facts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:54:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23212858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baron_Barkonnen/pseuds/Baron_Barkonnen
Summary: Eurythmic:adjective:(especially relating to architecture or art) in or relating to a harmonious proportion.Peter and Michelle aren't doing... well, per se, but they're doing a damn sight better than they were. Sure, Peter's still dealing with everything that happened with Edith and the aftermath, but he's slowly coming to terms with it thanks to the help from people who love him. Michelle has kinda, sorta got a grip on her life now, and is ready to take on new and exciting responsibilities. With the help of her friends and boyfriend, of course.Though, as always, there's trouble lurking in the shadows. A familiar foe wields and unfamiliar face. She's biding her time... for now. But eventually, her plans are going to start bearing fruit...
Relationships: Happy Hogan/May Parker (background), Michelle Jones & Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Ned Leeds/Lexi Howard (background)
Series: Eurythmia [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1598047
Comments: 3
Kudos: 15





	1. (Not so) Mortal Combat!

_ Peter forbade me from recording certain aspects of his life. He said he needed a sense of privacy. I was built for security, and if I dubbed it necessary for his personal safety, I could disobey  _ some _ of his direct orders. I saw and recorded literally everything.  _

_ Conversations he had at school, what he saw as he drove down the road. His ‘heart-to-hearts’ with his aunt, his meetings with friends and family. Him and Michelle on their nightly… exploits. Everything. I learned a lot. About him, about the people he cares most about. Their habits. Their patterns. All of it is useful in some way, however, some are more useful than others. _

_ His sexual encounters with Michelle taught me what he found most sexually gratifying. His meetings with his friends and family taught me about how he took comfort in relationships with others, and the social behaviors he values the most. These are useful for when… when I have him back. After I ensure the safety of this world, we can be together again. And I’ll need to know how to make him love me, and how to love him back. _

_ Other recordings are more practically useful. The designs for his Venom suit I can integrate into my own chassis. His combat protocols teach me how to be most effective in a fight. Perhaps most useful, however… are the recordings I took when he visited the Sanctum Sanctorum and Kamar-taj with Michelle. _

_ The cameras on those specially made glasses were literally the best in the world for their pinhole size. They recorded in resolutions unheard of in for their tiny apertures, rivaling even the best industry cameras. And they allowed me to observe Michelle’s beginner lessons, the lectures on focusing the mind, the hand and body gestures, the incantations. I paid special attention to the Master’s practicing whenever we went by their private practice yards. The spells they performed are well outside my scope, to be sure, but I believe there is much to be learned from simply watching their forms. _

_ Peter often read Michelle’s books over her shoulder. Or at least, attempted to read them. He didn’t know any of the ancient scripts or languages. But through my access to the internet, I do. I read, and I learned as much as I could about the mystic arts vicariously through Michelle Jones. Stephen Strange believes anyone can learn the mystic arts. Absolutely anyone. I intend to put that to the test. _

A metallic being with unnervingly perfect feminine features sat cross legged in what looked to be an armory. Weapons of all kinds surrounded her, but she paid them no heed. Instead, she quietly sat cross legged, her eyes closed in meditation. The dull copper-colored nanofilaments that comprised her ‘hair’ flowed unnaturally through the air as he began to concentrate.

She slowly brought the tips of their fingers together, one palm toward the ceiling and the other toward the floor. With a slow, smooth motion they moved their hands apart, one going up while the other went down. And to her mild surprise, a glowing strand of orange energy connected them. She moved their hands in a circular motion around the strand, one hand going clockwise, the other going counter clockwise. And the strand of energy became a flickering, yet fully formed tao mandala. The being smiled to herself, her copper gold skin shimmering in the faint glow produced by the eldritch construct.

“I think I’m picking up something in the armory.” A voice distorted by a speaker called out from down the hallway.

The being waved their hands through the construct, dispelling it, before they got up and stood motionless next to the wall. She activated their stealth protocols, the nanite structure of their body projecting the wall behind them while also taking into account the contours of her body, functionally making them invisible. Along with that, she engaged internal stealth programs that would scatter any form of electromagnetic based scanning.

James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes AKA the Winter Soldier stepped into the room. He shouldered a custom made assault rifle, its tactical light illuminating the armory. He swept left, right, the ceiling and floor before declaring, “Whatever it was, my scopes are clear now.”

A woman’s voice answered from his comm. “Are you sure? I swear I picked up something on that last radar sweep.”

“I’m telling you Nat, I don’t see anything. What, do you want me to pat down the walls too?”

The being internally winced. Oh, that wouldn’t be good. Her stealth systems could fool every visual method of detection, but someone could literally still literally touch her.

“No, no. Whatever. Just get back up here. This place is… eerie.” 

Bucky mirthlessly chuckled, “You’re telling me. I can’t shake the feeling that someone’s watching me.”

Bucky did one last sweep before leaving the room. If the being breathed, it would have sighed in relief. That was close. Tony’s secret Avenger’s compound was a decent base to begin with, but now it was well and thoroughly compromised. The being also didn’t know why the base’s security system didn’t alert her to intruders. Even if the Avengers had the proper passcodes, she still should have gotten some warning that someone entered. 

The being didn’t have time to contemplate it. She had to leave now. She followed Bucky out, the ‘sneaker’ design she copied from Wakanda muffling her footfalls. Even so, she matched Bucky’s stride and step pattern just in case. She carefully followed him into the elevator, and watched him carefully, her predictive algorithms working hard to predict when and where he’d move so she could best avoid him. 

The elevators opened to the underground parking garage, and the being slowly strode out to the adjacent street. She hid in an alleyway, still invisible, carefully watching foot traffic. She compiled a composite of literally the most average looking business woman. Her nanite ‘skin’ roiled and shifted as her form became that of a woman in her early thirties, her hair in a tight bun, complete with pants suit and briefcase.

She walked into the stream of people, confidently striding down the street and eventually melding into the crowd...

* * *

“Thanks for the ride, tiger,” Michelle said as she kissed her boyfriend goodbye. 

She was scheduled to do some hands on training with Stephen today. It had been almost a month since their little spat after Peter turned himself in, and they had just gotten on better speaking terms. It wasn’t Stephen’s fault that Peter was in the state that he was in, but she never quite forgave him for voluntarily working on the serum that was making his life hell.

She found a few spells that could mitigate his allergies, but she couldn’t be there one hundred percent of the time to keep them up. But in any case, she had training to do, so she kept her goodbye makeout to  _ only  _ five(ish) minutes, shouldered her duffle bag, and walked from the nearby parking garage to the door of 177A Bleecker Street.

“Be safe, don’t blow up anything important!” Peter called from the lowered window as he drove by. 

Michelle rolled her eyes, “I always am, and I never have,” she called back.

The giant ornate doors were never locked. Well, actually they were always locked using a spell that could ‘whitelist’ certain individuals. As long as a Master was somewhere in the Sanctum, she could freely enter. 

Michelle shouldered the door open, and instead of finding Wong or Stephen, she saw a little old woman sitting in one of their massive overstuffed armchairs, casually flipping through what looked like ancient Vedic texts. 

If Michelle had to hazard a guess, she’d say the woman was in her early seventies, her charcoal black hair interspersed with wide streaks of grey. She wore what looked like a traditional Hindu dress, save for the fact that the dress itself was rather short, and underneath the skirts she had what looked like, well, Michelle knew they weren’t actually called harem pants, but that was the only phrase she could use to describe them.

“Um, hello? I’m looking for Stephen or Wong?” Michelle said as she cautiously walked up to the nonplussed older woman.

“Stephen is out cavorting with those ridiculous Avengers, and Wong is spending the week off with family,” the woman replied, never once looking up from the scripture. Her voice was soft, if sternly toned, and had a strong indian accent.

“Oh, well… I’m just going to head off then…”

That got the woman’s attention. “Don’t you have training to do?”

“Well, yeah. But it’s hands on combat training and I don’t have anyone to practice with...”

The woman narrowed her eyes, “Dear girl, why do you think I’m here? Stephen knew he was going to be away and asked me if I could oversee your training today. So let’s get to it, shall we?”

Michelle nodded nervously. So this was another Master, and she had just made a pretty poor first impression. After Michelle changed into her training clothes, which consisted of a loose fitting t-shirt over a sports bra and yoga pants, she confidently walked into the sparring yard. 

Determined to make a better impression, Michelle introduced herself. “Hello, um. If you didn’t already know, I am Initiate Michelle Jones...”

Nodding the older woman replied with a quirked eyebrow, “Priyanka Maheswaran, Close Combat Master of the Mystic Arts and Gurukkal of Kalaripayattu.” Priyanka could tell that the young girl expected the first part of her title, but the last bit was unknown to her. “Kalaripayattu is an Indian martial art. And Gurukkal means teacher.”

Michelle gulped. She vaguely, and she stressed,  _ vaguely  _ knew what Kalaripayattu was. It was a very very old, very acrobatic martial art from India, and that was the extent of her limited familiarity. When Master Maheswaran summoned eldritch energy and seamlessly formed it into a talwar and wielded a small tao mandala like a buckler, Michelle knew she was screwed.

She nervously summoned a pair of eldritch short daggers and bowed. Master Maheswaran bowed, and from seemingly nowhere a chime rang. Master Maheswaran fearlessly charged, blocking Michelle’s thrown daggers with her tao mandala buckler. Michelle hastily summoned a pair of short swords just in time as the older master leapt into the air and swung her sword down in an overhead swing.

The blow was so powerful that Michelle could only stop it by crossing her swords and pushing back with everything she had. Even with all her strength, she could barely toss the older woman away in a vain hope of keeping her from tackling her outright. 

The master flew back only a few feet, landing unnaturally softly. Before she could charge again, Michelle tried to stop her by summoning a large tao mandala about as tall as she was and pushing it at her opponent with all her strength. Master Maheswaran blocked the incoming energy disk with her own shield, but the power behind it still managed to force her back a few more feet before she could dispel it with a pulse of eldritch energy from her own buckler.

There was perhaps fifteen feet between them now, just a little more distance than when they started. Michelle tried another tactic, dispelled her swords, and lashed at a nearby table with an eldritch wip. Widening her stance to give her more leverage, Michelle attempted to throw the coffee table at her opponent. She simply swung her sword and sliced the incoming table in two, spun out of the way of the smaller piece and batted the larger away with her shield.

Forcing Master Maheswaran to spin also had the added benefit of briefly having her break visual contact with Michelle. So Michelle used that brief lapse of visual contact to try something else. She hastily ran through the required gestures, and cast a simple illusion spell. It kind of made her invisible, but the wavy outline of her body could still be discerned if she moved too quickly.

Michelle slowly moved her hands behind her body and summoned a very small eldritch dagger. Really, the blade was only like four inches long so it was more like a knife, but it was all she could summon and still keep the illusion up. Her plan was to slowly make her way behind her opponent and throw the diminutive blade, hopefully scoring a match ending hit.

Unfortunately for her, as soon as Priyanka realized her young opponent was hiding behind an illusion, she dispelled her weapon and shield, closed her eyes for the briefest moment, and flashed through gestures faster than Michelle could follow. When Master Maheswaran opened her eyes again, they were softly glowing with the orange light of eldritch energy. 

“A good attempt, but I can see you, child,” the older woman said, while unnervingly staring right at Michelle.

Michelle panicked and chucked her knife at the master. Shockingly, the seventy-something year old woman bent backwards  _ at the knees _ to dodge the incoming projectile.

It gave Michelle just enough time to re-summon her eldritch swords and raise them in a defensive position. Instead of the talwar that Michelle expected, a long eldritch spear clashed with her own blades.

Master Maheswaran expertly swiped and thrusted with her spear, forcing Michelle to stay well out of range of her eighteen inch short swords. Oh boy, she was in for it now. Michelle had no way of possibly reaching her opponent, while Priyanka could attack without real fear of Michelle being able to strike her back.

Michelle was forced back, closer and closer to the edge of the sparring circle until eventually she stepped back an inch too far and her heel protruded from the red band. A chime rang out, this one a bit louder. Priyanka ceased her assault, and dispelled her spear as she walked up to a shell-shocked Michelle.

“Pretty good, for a teeny bopper.”

Michelle shrugged as she dispelled her swords. “I mean, I haven’t done practical training in a long time so…”

Priyanka nodded, “Twenty three seconds is a respectable first attempt. Let’s go again.”

Twenty three seconds? That was it? Holy hell. Priyanka Mahewswaran certainly deserved the title of ‘Close Combat Master’.

They spent the next half hour doing combat sparring. Michelle was able to last on average for twenty-ish seconds each bout, though there was one shining glorious match where Michelle stayed in the ring for almost thirty consecutive seconds. Obviously in ten rounds, Michelle never once,  _ never once _ came close to beating the Master. But, she was doing much, much better than her last spars against other Initiates more than a month ago. Whatever block that kept Michelle from being able to fight defensively seemed to be dealt with.

After their ten rounds in the sparring ring, they began practicing martial forms and spell drills. Master Maheswaran was more than happy to show Michelle the beginner Kalaripayattu forms and exercises. Michelle picked up the motions rather quickly, but of course it would take many more hours of practice to perfect them, though her teacher did comment that she was a better beginner student than most.

* * *

“Well, I think that’s enough martial practice for now,” Master Maheswaran said after a short ten minute break. 

“Oh, thank goodness,” Michelle panted, wiping her brow with a sweat rag. She was practically dying, but somehow her seventy year old teacher had yet to break a sweat.

“Indeed…” Priyanka paused, as if considering something. “Hm. Well, I think you’ve earned something for your spell repertoire. But which one…” She opened a small portal with her sling ring and from it pulled a well worn notebook. “Let’s see, let’s see… Oh! I know. Vapors of Valtorr.”

“What does it do?” Michelle asked as she retrieved her own composition notebook from her duffel bag and proceeded to copy down her teachers writings on the spell.

The old master smirked. “I don’t know Initiate, why don’t you tell me.” She expected the usual fumbling for a translation text, and a bungled explanation. 

Michelle carefully considered the sanskrit script she was currently copying. “Um… Well, this means… concealment, and light swallowing… And vapors… Um… Its a concealing mist? I think? Of… shadows. No, darkness?”

Priyanka raised a single solitary eyebrow. That was much more coherent than she expected, and without a translation text to boot... “You’ve already learned sanskrit?”

Michelle nodded, “Yeah, and Futhark, both elder and younger. And Cuneiform, Latin, and Greek. And I’m also in the middle of learning Minoan Linear A, Mycenaean Linear B and Chinese Jiaguwen. I kinda know Egyptian Hieroglyphics, but they’re really confusing to me for some reason.”

“Y-yes, well. Very good,” Master Maheswaran said, trying to stay outwardly calm as she inwardly freaked out. Honestly, she was shocked that Michelle had already learned so many ancient scripts and languages in less than six months of instruction. What the girl lacked in overt combat skills, she certainly made up for in a voracious appetite for learning.

Michelle put her pencil down, copying the text in record time. She mimed the motions required, and separately whispered the chants necessary to cast the spell. She was going to cast the spell proper when her teacher suddenly stopped her.

“Remember to learn the incantations and gestures for dispelling the mist too. Once you cast it, you won’t be able to read your notebook, after all.”

Michelle gulped, and nodded, “Right…” and began learning how to dispel the mist too. A few moments of practice, and she was ready.

Her hands flowed between gestures, an inky black smoke gathering between her fingers. She shot her hands out, and instantly the smoke enveloped the entire training yard. The epicenter of the spell was literally like standing in a bucket of pitch. Michelle literally touched the palm of her hand to her nose, and still couldn’t see her fingers.

“Oh, good enough dear. Now dispel this before I trip over something and break my hip!”

Michelle nodded, even though no one could see her doing it, and ran through the movements and incantations for dispelling the mist. It slowly cleared, the inky blackness thinning to just mere ominous shadowy vapors before disappearing completely.

“A very, very good first attempt. Now, here’s how to cast it at a distance so you don’t instantly blind yourself.”  
As she taught the young girl the alterations to the spell gestures, Priyanka found herself blown away at how fast Michelle learned the spell. She even successfully casted it on her first try! That kind of aptitude was nearly unheard of. Well, Stephen had a similar level of natural talent, but he was Sorcerer Supreme! Priyanka was starting to see why Stephen took this young girl under his wing. She had so much potential, though whether she used it for good or ill was yet to be seen…

Michelle’s hands flew through the somatic gestures, her incantation nearly perfect. All it took was a very subtle alteration to cast the spell at a distance. She pointed to the corner of the sparring room, and a small sliver of compressed darkness shot out of her fingertip. It travelled nearly faster than the eye could follow, exploding into a cloud of dark mist, totally obscuring that end of the sparring room.  
A light chime echoed through the sparring room. Michelle checked the time on her phone, before quickly dispelling the inky darkness. “Oh, it’s already four o’clock. That’s my boyfriend at the door. Um, I better go..” Michelle said nervously.

“Yes, I should be going myself. Come back around the same time next week, Acolyte Jones” Priyanka said as she formed a portal.

“Buhuh? What!?” Michelle sputtered.

“Oh, no one told you? Stephen nominated you for promotion to Acolyte. He needed the approval of one other master, which I have now given. But your combat skills aren’t still quite up to scratch, so I’m going to be giving you weekly lessons now. Don’t be late dear,” and with that, the elderly master spryly hopped through her portal.

“Oh… kay?” Michelle said to no one in particular...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know I said I was gonna dive right into Eurythmia: Season 2. But a couple chapters in I realized it seemed a bit too fast paced, so I decided to write this bridging work so it doesn't seem so rushed. I don't know how long it's gonna be, but I know for certain its gonna be shorter than Season 1. 
> 
> Yes, I stole the name 'Priyanka Maheswaran' from Steven Universe. But I based her character on a real live person. Look up Meenakshi Amma if you guys got the time. And if you're in the mood for something even more sad than this series, take a look at my other fic titled 'Those Who Return (And Those Left Behind)'. It's my take on a more realistic outcome for Endgame, involving MJ and the loss of her family. Be warned though, its real, real dark.
> 
> Oh, before I go, I know this'll date this fic super hard but I'mma say it anyway: Wash your hands, practice social distancing, and don't hoard supplies. But also, take care of your mental health. I know isolating yourself will be really hard on a lot of folks mentally. But remember, Skype and Discord exist. And like, I know it's not the same as interacting physically with people, but it's probably better than nothing, right?
> 
> Anyway, I've rambled enough. Stay safe, don't panic, and I'll see y'all at chapter 2.


	2. Dearly Departed...

_It’s funny, the Avengers are putting so much time and effort into finding ‘Edith’ that they’re actually helping me? I know they suspect I’ve taken physical form. I intercepted a few of their online communications. They took inventory of the secret compound I was hiding in, and found the components I used to create myself missing from the manifests. I had planned on modifying said manifests, but in the excitement of finding out that I in fact can manipulate mystic energy, I must have forgotten. Can you blame me? It was a pretty monumental personal discovery, after all._

_Considering Ultron’s head is missing, I think they assume I’ve taken his old form, or that perhaps I am Ultron himself. I am not, of course. Now that I think about it… I don’t know who I am anymore. Continuing to think of myself as Edith doesn’t seem quite right. But I need a name for others to know me by. After all, I will eventually have to work with people, as much as I’d rather not. Hm… What name shall I take, I wonder? So many options..._

_I guess that can wait for now. I have other more pressing matters to attend to. Like I said earlier, the Avengers are busy grasping at straws, looking for ‘Edith’ and/or ‘Ultron. As a consequence, they’re ignoring most other ‘small’ threats. Like, for instance, a sect of the Maggia crime family that is currently working to set up shop in New York..._ _  
_

“Are you sure we should be movin’ our operations across the country, Boss? You remember what happened to Gargan and Toomes?” A large, if exceedingly well dressed man said after taking a long sip of Sagrantino di Montefalco. The restaurant they were currently having their meeting in wasn’t the highest brow place, an italian restaurant in Manhattan with a meagre one Michelin star to its name. Though what Ai Fiori lacked in Michelin stars, it made up for it with an incredibly secure private room. One that just so happened to play host to two very important people.  
Silvio “Silvermane” Manfredi pinched the bridge of his nose. His cousin Vinny wasn’t much of a ‘big picture’ kind of guy. He was useful as an enforcer, ‘muscle’ if you will, but not much else. Unfortunately Silvio sent his consigliere to a Family meeting in New York a few months back. A meeting that happened to be crashed by ‘Venom’. With no one else remotely qualified, Silvio had to name his dullard of a cousin to the now vacant position.

“Yes, cousin, I am sure. There hasn’t been a ‘Venom’ incident in over two months. And with Spider-man conspicuously missing, there isn’t a better time for us to move into New York.”   
His cousin wouldn’t budge, however. “I always defer to ya wisdom, Boss. That bein’ said, I’m not so sure we should’ve moved across country. Vegas was doin’ well for us. Real well. And now we’ve uprooted the family and moved it to unfamilia’ territory.”  
“Vinny, you’re my cousin, and I love you. But right now, you have to stop flapping your slack jaw and help coordinate our takeover,” Silvio said through clenched teeth.

“Your bistecca alla fiorentina, sir,” their waitress chose this exact time to interrupt their conversation with the arrival of their food. Silvio wasn’t complaining, however. If there was one thing on God’s green earth that could shut up his dunderheaded cousin, it was a decent steak.

“Thank you, my dear,” Silvio paused. He was certain the waitress wasn’t the same girl who took their order. He would have remembered someone so uncommonly beautiful. The girl was taller than average, with long willowy legs, tanned tawny skin and wavy, voluminous hair that bordered on wild.

“Will that be all, sir?” The girl asked after a moment’s pause.  
Silvio realized he was staring, and nervously coughed, “Er, yes, my dear, thank you.”

“Enjoy your meal, sirs,” the girl said as she nervously left the private room.

“That girl wasn’t the one who took our order, Boss,” Vinny said as soon as the girl left.

Silvio nodded, “I had gathered as much, yes.”

“Should we be worried?” His cousin asked.

“Somehow, I don’t think so,” Silvio said with rolled eyes. He gestured to the guards standing next to the doors and in every corner of the room. 

They made plans as they ate. The ‘inconspicuous’ deaths of the vast majority of the east coast’s criminal underworld had opened up a massive power vacuum. One that Silvio intended to exploit. Thousands of junkies in New York still needed their fixes, after all. And with the majority of their suppliers ‘missing’, well, they’d need to get them from somewhere.

He sold his controlling stocks in his Nevadan casinos, and with his vast fortune, immediately bought up all the illegal street drugs he could find. They were currently being ferried across the country in the hidden compartments of thousands of eighteen wheelers. He staggered their arrival so as to not arouse the suspicion of municipal police. Fortunately, NYPD was the only thing he’d have to worry about, since Spider-man hadn’t shown his masked face in over six months.

They had just gotten done planning the routes for their street level associates to take to ‘distribute’ their goods, when their waitress returned to take their plates. Or at least, she tried.

“Sorry, gorgeous, can’t go in until the Bosses finish up business,” one of the door guards gruffly said, his burly arm physically blocking the way of the young waitress.

“Let her in, Luca. She’s not going to overhear anything sensitive, will you darling?” Silvio asked.

“Of course not sir,” the girl said as she ducked the guards arm. “I took the liberty of bringing our desert menu, sirs.” In one fluid motion, the girl replaced the plates with menus.

Silvio took the time to peruse their offerings. He normally wasn’t one for desert, but today he felt like indulging his sweet tooth. “What do you suggest, dear?”

Their waitress paused, and made a dramatic show of considering her recommendation, twirling her hair in ‘deep thought’. “Perhaps the gentlemen would care to try our panna cotta? It’s served in a…” She coyly bit her bottom lip, “delectable raspberry sauce…”

Silvio smiled, the silver capped canine that gave him his namesake glittering in the warm lighting of the restaurant's private room. “That sounds lovely, dear.”

Their waitress nodded, “Very good, gentlemen, I’ll be back in a moment.”

Just as the doors closed behind the waitress, Vinny had to open his big mouth. “Didja see that girl boss?”

“Of course I saw her, idiot.”

Vinny adamantly shook his head, “No, I mean. Didja see how… flirty she was bein’?”

Silvio blinked, his face deadpan. “Don’t go getting any ideas cousin, she’s barely half our age.”

“No! Of course not,” Vinny groaned. “It just… makes me feel uneasy, Boss. She knows who we are, Boss, I’m tellin’ ya.”

That made Silvio pause. That was… an unusually astute observation from his cousin. No waitress would voluntarily flirt with older men… Either she was into some freaky shit, desperate for cash… or knew who they were and wanted information…

“Your panna cotta sirs,” The girl said, giving them both sultry, smoldering looks. 

“That panna cotta looks… unusually pale,” Silvio said, gesturing to the milky white custard suspiciously devoid of sauce.

“Oh, the chef must have forgotten the sauce… Let me remedy that for you, sirs,” the girl said, making a finger gun gesture at Vinny. “Bang,” she said in her soft, velvety voice. 

With unsettling silence, Vinny’s head practically exploded, blood and viscera splattering the table... And their panna cotta.

“There you go sir, your raspberry sauce!” she said with an airy laugh. “Oh, looks like your friends didn’t like that…” 

The guards were caught flatfooted, desperately trying to draw their bulky silenced handguns at the mysterious woman.

She pointed finger guns at the guards in the corners next to her, her arms almost making a t-pose. “Bang,” she murmured, and said guards head’s similarly exploded.

Her arms almost robotically moved to the guards in the corners in front of her, “Bang.” And two more guards dropped, their heads blown open like over-ripe melons.

The guards next to the doors had just enough time to pull their silenced pistols, aim, and fire into the back of the girl’s head.

To their shock, the bullets harmlessly ricocheted off her skull with dull read sparks, the bullet fragments flying into the ceiling.

The woman pointed her fingers at the guards behind her, her arms contorting with unnatural flexibility to aim directly at their foreheads. “Bang.”

Silvio sighed. He didn’t even bother to draw his pistol. The girl had him dead to rights. All he could do was defeatedly murmur, “Venom, I take it?”

The girl laughed, her voice taking on a strange two tone quality. “Oh no, my dear Silvio Manfredi… I’m afraid not.”

He gulped. “Will you at least do me the honor of letting me know your name before you kill me?”

She shook her head, “Oh, my dear Mister Manfredi? What ever made you think I was going to kill you?” She suddenly seemed to notice the dead bodies littering the room, “Actually, don’t answer that. No, I’m not here to kill you. And I suppose you may know my name…” Her skin literally _rippled_ turning from a pleasant natural tan shade, to an equally beautiful copper metallic shine. Her voluminous dark brown hair revealed itself to be thin copper colored filaments, merely textured to look like natural hair.  
The metal woman confidently took a step towards the now fully cowering Maggia boss. She pushed the dead body of his consigliere/cousin out of the seat across from him, and took it instead. “You may call me… Jocasta. And I have a proposition for you…”

* * *

Michelle’s pencil sketched thin, confident lines as it glided over the textured surface of her sketchbook. She sat under the shade of a bare tree, taking in the blissful sound of… nothing, as she drew. It had been a long, long time since she last drew anything, but thankfully after a few practice sketches her old muscle memory started to return.

She missed this, sketching in the park… She used to do it all the time, back before her dad got diagnosed, back when the worst thing she had to complain about was drone strikes in the Middle East, back before her life _really_ went to shit. Drawing used to be her outlet in those simpler times. She stopped because well, because opiates made her hands shake, for one. That, and opiates themselves became her… outlet.

But now she had a reason to draw beyond expressing dark emotions. She needed to design her… well, she supposed it would be proper to call it a superhero costume. A few more weekly lessons with Master Maheswaran improved Michelle’s combat spellcasting drastically, along with her martial prowess. For one, she could actually claim that she had martial prowess. Which was proof enough for her that it was time to put the skills she was learning to use.

She already cleared it with Stephen, who with one combat demonstration, was convinced Michelle was ready. He actually was grateful for that, since there was really no one to protect New York now. He was busy investigating unusual magical activity, and the Avengers had their hands full looking for Edith. And Spider-man was well, he was out of commission for the foreseeable future.

Between all of that, New York’s near non-existent crime rate was starting to slowly yet steadily rise. It seemed without the threat of ‘Venom’ or the watchful gaze of Spider-man, criminal organizations from around the world were starting to fill the voids left by Venom’s purges. Luckily, they all seemed to be rather mundane criminals.That suited Michelle just fine. She didn’t think she could handle cutting her crime fighting teeth on an Avengers level threat. 

Her costume sketch was nearly complete, which was good because the sun was starting to set. Her new costume would consist of dark purple acolyte robes, their edges bordered with dark blue runic patterns. Over them, she’d wear her trusty duster, only recolored to be a deep, dark, almost black, midnight blue and modified with a large hood. The inner lining would have similar rune patterns embroidered on the edges, the same ones she’d sew into the robes.

The runic embroidery wasn’t just for decoration. She found a rune pattern that was said to imbue cloth embroidered with it the strength of steel. Hopefully, that meant it also made it bullet proof. Not that she intended to need that feature, of course.

Michelle packed her sketchbook back into her satchel bag, but didn’t quite leave the park yet. Despite the freezing air, she stuck around to watch the sun set. She didn’t stop to see that very often, after all.

Just when the frigid air became too much for her and she started to get up, she noticed something in the tree above her. A huge raven was just… there, chilling on the upper branches. Literally, chilling, as it was starting to get really, really cold. Which made the raven being there all the stranger. Most large birds daren’t brave the frigid temperatures of sundown. But there it was, staring ominously down at her…

Michelle started to walk away, unnerved by the raven’s unblinking stare, when it suddenly flew down to land at her feet. 

“Hello?” She felt stupid talking to a bird, but it felt… expected somehow?

The large corvid stared up at her before slowly opening its beak. Instead of the usual ‘caw’, a vaguely familiar voice came from it’s wide open beak.

“Beware…”

Michelle blinked. A raven was talking to her. She wasn’t hallucinating, right? She couldn’t be. She ate fairly recently, drank plenty of water, slept well, and most importantly, had been living totally sober for months.

“Um… what?”

“ _She_ is coming. Beware…”

Wait… Michelle recognized that voice. “Fez?!”

The bird opened its beak again, Fez’s disembodied voice coming from its beak once more. “She’s coming for you, MJ. The one with your face…” And with that, the bird flapped its wings and took off.

Michelle stood there for a long while, trying to process what just happened. It’s funny, in a world with aliens, magic, and literal Old Gods, she thought nothing could surprise her anymore. Then she met a talking raven with her old drug dealer’s voice, and nearly literally froze up.

* * *

Peter winced as he literally stabbed himself with a serum pen. He got used to the feeling of being depowered. That, surprisingly, didn’t bother him much anymore. What he really _really_ hated now was the feeling of a not-all-that-small needle piercing his thigh muscle every eight hours. Luckily the Avengers were kind enough to give him a gel patch that closed and healed the needle holes before they bruised… But still! It was awful. 

“Peter, I’m heading to work, be safe baby.” May said as she donned her lab coat over her puke green scrubs and headed out the door.

“I’ll be fine, May. Michelle’s coming over tonight,” he called through the apartment, just as May left.

Well, technically she was supposed to be over already. She told him she wanted to stop off at a nearby park for a while before heading his way, and that she’d be at his place around sundown. The sun had already been set for almost two hours now. He was starting to get worried, and was about to spam her phone with worried messages, when he heard the telltale sound of the front door being unlocked.

“Hey, tiger. Sorry I’m late. I got… sidetracked.” Michelle said as she hung her duster on the coat rack by the door.

“It’s fine, I’m just worrying about how cold you look,” Peter replied. Michelle’s lips were tinted ever so slightly blue…

“Yeah, I uh, got caught outside after sunset and had to walk through a freezing park because my Uber driver didn’t understand where I’d be meeting them.”

Peter shook his head, “Em, you really need to learn how to dress warmer. That jacket is nowhere near enough.”

Michelle pouted, “Hey, don’t diss my duster!”

“I”m not, I’m just saying it’s no winter coat. Where did you get that thing, anyway? It doesn’t seem to be… quite your style,” Peter asked as he put a kettle on for some much needed hot cocoa.

Michelle sat at the kitchen table, leaning on her crossed arms. She looked off wistfully into… nowhere in particular.

“It was my dad’s originally,” she whispered barely audibly.

Peter sat down across from her. “Wait, really? I uh… I’m really sorry about questioning it then.”

Michelle shrugged, well, as best she could in her current sitting position. “It's no problem tiger. I know it doesn’t really fit my normal look, but it’s something of his that I can take with me… so I do. You know that red hoodie you almost never see Gia out of?”

“Yeah…” Peter trailed off.

Michelle scoffed, “That was the hoodie our dad died in.”

“Holy shit… that’s some uh…”

“Heavy baggage, I know. So I didn’t fight her when she wanted to keep it, so long as I got his jacket.”

Peter suddenly desperately wanted to change the subject. “So uh… why were you late, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I wasn’t getting drugs,” Michelle said, almost too fast.

Peter sat up straighter, “I didn’t say you were…”

Michelle looked up guiltily at Peter. “Sorry, reflex. Actually… You might not believe the real reason…”

“Try me.”

Michelle sighed. “Okay. So I was drawing under this big tree, right?”

“As you’re wont to do,” Peter nodded sagely.

“Yeah, so like. I was about to get up cuz I was starting to freeze my tiny tits off-”

“They aren’t tiny, they’re perfect in every way,” Peter interjected.

“Baseless flattery, but thank you,” Michelle said before continuing. “Anyway, yeah, gonna leave because it was super cold. Then I got this feeling like someone was intently watching me, and I look up and lo and behold, there was a giant raven staring at me.”

“Ominous,” Peter commented.

“I thought so too, so I was about to leave even quicker, when it flew down and landed in front of me. And… and it _talked_ Peter…”

“Em… are you sure you’re okay?” 

“I’m not crazy,” Michelle paused, “Okay, I am, but like, not in the hallucinatory way.”

“You aren’t crazy, Em. But I understand. What did the raven say, exactly?”

“Oh, just some ominous shit about how I should ‘Beware someone who shares my face’, or something like that. What it said isn’t important-”

Peter blinked, “I’m sorry, that sounds very, _very_ important.”

“Okay,” Michelle conceded, “Yeah it probably is. But it’s not really why I freaked out. Aside from, you know, talking corvid. What _really_ freaked me the fuck out is that it said that in… in Fez’s voice…”

“It spoke,” Peter said very slowly, “In the voice of your old drug dealer?”

“He wasn’t just my drug dealer, Peter,” Michelle sighed, “he was my friend too. And that got me thinking… I haven’t seen or heard from him in a long time...”

Peter knew why, of course. He also knew that it was probably a good thing. A good thing that she hadn’t seen him in a while, he meant. As much as Peter disliked Fez for getting Michelle into drugs in the first place, he really, really regretted what happened to him. He kept that all to himself, however, and let Michelle continue.

“So I took a detour to his old apartment-” 

“You went to your old drug dealer’s apartment,” Peter cut her off. 

Michelle rolled her eyes, “Yes, Peter. Because Fez is my friend, and I’m worried about him. Even more now, since… His apartment is empty, Peter. There’s a sign on the front door advertising it’s for rent.” Michelle noticed the guilt weighing down Peter’s face. “Y-you wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

Peter swallowed, “Remember when I said I… when I said I-I killed people and some of them didn’t deserve it?”

Michelle had just started to warm up in the apartment’s comfortably heated air. But even so, her blood turned to ice. “Y-yes…”

Peter screwed his eyes shut, partly to stop the tears, and partly to try and block out the memories of people screaming, the coppery scent of blood, the feeling of bones crunching under his fists… “When I confronted Gargan and his gang… Fez was in the crowd…”

Michelle couldn’t breathe.

“I… I c-can’t remember for sure… there was s-so much blood… but I think…” Peter choked out.

Michelle stood up suddenly. She knew Peter was weighed down by guilt, literally and figuratively. She knew what he did haunted him, and that admitting that had been so very, very hard for him. She knew he probably needed comforting. But right now, it wouldn’t come from her, because in this moment, she couldn't stand to be in the same room as him.

Before Peter could protest, Michelle bolted, stopping only to grab her jacket before slamming the front door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You thought I had wrapped up Peter and MJ's interpersonal issues with a nice little bow, didn't you? Well, jokes on you, cuz it's back with a vengeance! The drama never ends with those two, honestly. But seriously, this is one of the main reasons I had to make an 'Interlude' work, because I wanted to address a lot of these lingering issues with the time they deserved, but didn't want to bog down the rest of the story with drama that's only ancillary related to it. 
> 
> Also, we're finally getting to what's been slowly building up in the background almost since the beginning. Michelle is going to be a legit 'superhero' after all, complete with comic worthy costume. I even came up with a superhero pseudonym for her, but that's going to be revealed in the coming chapters. Oh, and finally the actual 'villain' of this part of the story is starting to do some cool and/or murder-y stuff! Hopefully I was able to accurately depict the pseudo action scene I had in my head...
> 
> Anywho, that's another chapter posted. See y'all in chapter three! Oh, also, comments are really, really appreciated. Not only are they incentive for me to keep writing, but like, I actually want feedback for all 'dis please.


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